Any Friend of Yours, is an Enemy of Mine
by almostfamous9
Summary: “Betrayal is the only truth that sticks.” Massie, Claire, Cam and Derrington.
1. How it starts

There was a quiet sort of echoing as her fingers knotted themselves in his dark hair. She had never imagined it so perfect before, so wonderful. Of course, there was the awkward phase of exploration, the embarrassing touches as they reconnected, but in the end there was nothing more glorious than the feel of his fingers against her waist.

She could feel his fingertips brush against her full chest. And when he grazed down her thigh, pulling into her, and giving her a sweet mix of bitter joy and anguish, it's impossible to think it's his first time too.

For a while, they lay there, staring into each other's eyes, her amber meeting the unusual combination green and blue.

_He's rare._

And then a soft coo of a melody, technical and robotic, sounds from his IKEA desk. He steps from the bed, in all his glory, towards the dresser to pick up the moving cell phone.

"Hello?" he asks, softly. His voice is a mixture of smoke and fog.

She clutches the blanket closer to her exposed body, for some reason feeling uncomfortable fully exposed.

"Hey Claire," he mumbles, partly trying to hide her name. "Actually, I'm busy today, but yeah tonight," he says, false enthusiasm playing at his lips. "Yeah all of us, the whole group." He pauses to stare at her again, almost apologetic. "Mhm, I'll tell Derrick to get us some stuff,"

She pulls off the covers, and tumbles off the bed, her long and tan limbs wriggling to fit into her pink boy-shorts. She slips on the simple black dress, with a deep V plunging into her cleavage. The sleeves fan out on her thin arms, and the dress suits her, it's so simple, so lovely on her perfect body.

"I love you too," he says slowly. Each syllable is a jab in her heart.

"_Liar,_" she mutters when he closes the phone shut.

He says nothing; simply watching her adjust her chocolate waves, wipe the traces of mascara that smudged slightly. He wants to grab her, let her know that Claire is nothing to him, that he loves her, he always had. But, she'd just call him a liar.

To Cam there never was an uglier word.

"Are you coming tonight?" he asks, opening his drawer and pulling a fresh pair of boxers over his waist.

She can't help but stare at him. "I don't know. Where are we going?" she asks, pretending to not care. She picked up the silver pocket book from the floor, kicking away the dirty shirts that littered around it.

_Pig._

"She said Alicia's; her parents are out of town, or something,"

"I know," she snaps, her voice harsh and controlled. "Well in any case, I don't know. Why would I want to go anyway? So I can see you all over _her_?"

"Massie, please," he starts, but retreats back. He knows she's right, but he can't bear to see her hurt expression.

"What Cam? I'm sorry if I'm not too thrilled with the idea of seeing the boy I love pretend like he cares about some other girl," she says, tears threatening to emerge in her amber eyes.

"Some girl?" Cam starts. "Claire is one of your best friends; she's not just some girl,"

"I know she's not," Massie said, standing full and tall. Her amber eyes were cold and she was staring at him now, cold and hard. "She's the girl that you love!"

"Massie,"

"Please Cam, I'm done," she says, pushing past him and heading towards the door. She walks into the hallway, where there is no one home, no Mrs. Fisher to greet her and offer her a treat, no Harris to kid around and flirt with, no Mr. Fisher to tell Massie how pretty she looks.

Here in this house, it is only her and Cam, alone and flustered.

"Massie wait!" Cam sighs as he follows her out of his room.

He grabs her thin arm, holding it in his own strong hand, and pulls her roughly into him. He lowers his lips down and passionately kisses her on the lips, feeling his way through her mouth with experience and vigor.

"Cam, I can't" she says, pulling away from him, letting only little crystal tears fall from her face. "I love you too much,"

"Massie, I love you too," he says. He pulled her closer to him, his green and blue eyes hypnotically pulling her in. Cam Fisher was sucking all the resistance out of her, and who was she to refuse. She leaned into him, letting him drag her back into his bed. He pulled off her dress, staring at the black lacy bra, before letting it drop to the floor. She pulled off her bottoms, and crawled into the bed, smothering him with kisses as she let it happen all over again.

To Massie Block, Cam Fisher was the boy she would always love, her first crush, and the boy she had lost her virginity to.

To Cam Fisher, Massie Block was pure fury, angry and concrete. She was the one who had escaped him, who always insisted on having fun and leading the pack. She was the girl he had lost his virginity to, the girl he would always love.


	2. Guilty

Claire's tall now, with vibrant blue eyes, and white blond hair that was limp and never had much volume.

She was different from the middle-school Claire that smiled in a picture frame, pale arms wrapped tightly around a tongue-sticking Massie.

She examines her body in a full-length mirror that rested on the dark panel of her closet. Her body is thin, and contains womanly curves, with a small chest, and an even smaller back-side. Light blond hair settles neatly in straight layers over a small face, with large, innocent blue eyes that glaze over with excitement.

Claire was no Massie, but considering what she had to work with, she thought she did okay.

She pulls the maroon sweater over her head, letting it cling to her skin, and adoring the scoop neck of the shirt. Next, she slips into a light wash pair of skinny jeans, pairing it with new Prada boots (a hand me down of Massie).

She observes the lifeless blond locks, running a quick brush through them, and settling herself onto the bed.

At sixteen, Claire felt that there was nothing outside of Westchester than remaining popular. Sure, she wasn't the prettiest member of the Pretty Committee, in fact, she secretly thought she was the ugliest, though Massie always assures her that she is prettier than Dylan Marvil, but Claire always had Cam Fisher.

He was her one true love and even when she tries to stop thinking about him, she can't. There was something off about his voice when she called him this morning, but Claire didn't want to think about it. Because, the mere thought of Cam leaving her kills her.

She walks over to the small window in her bedroom, and across the yard she can see an embarrassed Massie speed-walking towards her house.

It's odd that Massie's home this late, Claire was sure that manicures with Kendra didn't take this long.

Claire grabs her coat, shutting the door behind her as she marches from the Block's guest-house.

"Massie!" she calls, anxiously racing towards her friend before the brunette beauty can get inside.

In the whipping cold, Massie looks stunning, with naturally rosy cheeks and smoky makeup. Her hair is tussled slightly, but it suits Massie.

"Geez I've been calling you all day. We're still going to Alicia's right?" Claire asks, playing with the ends of her light blond hair.

Massie stares at her for a moment, her amber eyes soaring with guilt and frustration.

"Yeah," Massie says, turning back to the door, opening it with force. She teeters a bit on her Christian Louboutin flats, and stumbles inside, dropping the silver Marc Jacobs onto the floor without a second thought.

"Okay?" Claire says, following Massie into her house.

Massie's house never ceases to amaze Claire. It is filled with unused space and a large living room where Kendra throws her infamous parties. Of course, William wants nothing to do with his frivolous wife's careless spending, so he lets her claim that room, instead retreating to his office to play phone sex with his new secretary.

At first, Claire had thought the Blocks lived a perfectly un-blemished life. But, as she and Massie became friends, and even now in their junior year of high school, Claire was learning that the Blocks had a less-than-fabulous life. Their arguments and shouting-matches fill the house each night. Leaving Massie to toss and turn in her bed, wondering why, if they have so much money, they can't just buy happiness.

Massie sprints up the spiral staircase that leads to her room, which takes up most of the second-floor. Claire follows Massie, panting as she runs full speed after her friend.

"Mass," she calls quietly. "What is going on?" she asks, stepping into the room behind her friend.

Massie drops her lime green, mini-trench onto the floor, immediately adding a sparkle of print to the other-wise colorless room.

"Nothing, I'm just tired, that's all," Massie says, kicking off her flats, and sitting on her bed.

Claire looks at Massie in disbelief, her blond eyebrows crinkling at her friend.

"What? God, Kuh-Lair stare any harder?" Massie says, rudely. She rushes to her closet to pull off a pair of jeans from the millions that stared back at her.

Claire turns to stare at her friend once more, before exiting the room.

_Guilty. _

It's the first word that pops into Claire's head. Of what though?

Without thinking, Claire pulled her cell phone from her pocket, pressing it to her ear as she walks out of the Block house and into the cold winter air.

"Hello?" the voice asks. It's a familiar pot-smoker voice, hoarse and relaxed.

"Cam, baby, is everything okay?" she asks, unsure why though.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" he asks right back. He sounds occupied, almost too-busy to talk to her. She can picture him pulling a blue shirt over his chiseled chest, the same color as one of his eyes.

"I don't know, I just love you," she says quietly, slipping back into the guest house, where Todd plays his video-games with his friends.

"I know," he says. There's a rustling in the background, maybe searching for papers, digging through cabinets. "I love you too," he says quietly, almost unsure.

Claire smiles into the phone, sinking into his voice, and sure that all she needs, he had just said.

"Well I gotta go babe," he says over the constant rustling. "I'll see you tonight."

"Bye," she says to the phone, but realizes that she had just talked to the dial tone.

She drops the phone on the bed and stares up at the ceiling, counting the stick on stars that decorate it. When she was little, she loved those stars because she had always been afraid of the dark. Afraid of what might happen in the dark.

She stands up and turns off the light. The pretty orangey sunset peeks through her window and she's bathed in a fiery glow. Across, in the other house, Massie Block pulls down her curtain, unaware that Claire is staring at her.

Something wasn't right. And to Claire it is scarier than any monster in the dark.


	3. History

The scene in front of her eyes was almost too much to take for Massie.

There's Dylan in her usual drunken stupor, her red hair spilling over her shoulders like a sea of fire, as she danced around in only a pink bra, and clutching a nearly empty bottle of champagne.

Kristen, who was flirting heavily with Chris Plovert and Kemp Hurley, seemed to have one too many as well. And of course, there was Alicia Rivera, looking as beautiful as ever in a satin halter top, and balancing neatly on Josh Hotz's lap, as she plays with his blue baseball cap.

However, the only thing Massie could see was Cam, entering through the doors with a sense of superiority and looking every inch the beautiful teenager he was.

Claire was next to Massie, drinking from a beer bottle she had been nursing since she got there. Of course, Claire was never much of a drinker and couldn't handle her alcohol.

"God Kuh-Lair, finish the fucking thing already," she mutters, taking a quick swig of her third can. Massie sat up a little straighter, eyeing Cam as he approaches the two. She can smell the pot smoke trailing on his clothes, and she wonders briefly if he had been smoking earlier this afternoon.

Claire stands up to greet him, planting a light, delicate kiss on his lips. Massie turns her head away, unable to stand the pain of them together. She grabs her can and walks away from them, ignoring the surprised look on Claire's face.

Massie grabs two more cans of beer from where they sit on the long wooden table in Alicia's den area. She walks away, clutching the cans close to her chest and finishing off her third, without so much as a wince.

She marches up the large staircase that centers the house, breaking off into the west and east wings of Alicia's Spanish-style mansion.

She turns up the steps towards the west wing, which holds Alicia's parents bed-room. She opens the large heavy door, to reveal a room decorated in deep, rich reds and browns. To Massie and Alicia this room held a bowl of wonders. They used to dress up in Mrs. Rivera's clothing, all the rich evening gowns she had received free from designers.

Massie settles the beers down on the dresser, glancing at the pictures that line the table. They are of the Rivera family on the beach in Spain, in a hotel in France, in Central Park. All of them feature Alicia's smiling gorgeous face. Massie smiles, cracking open her fourth beer, and taking a deep sip of the dark liquid.

She opens the large walk-in closet of the Riveras, examining the neatly arranged ball gowns, and stunning dresses that hang in the closet. Massie reluctantly pulls down a wine colored Chanel gown, that to the eye seemed dull and boring, but when worn instantly hugged a body the right way.

Massie stripped off her Japanese-print tunic and stick straight, dark jeans, and trading them for the wine colored gown.

Massie zips up the back of the gown, letting it settle against her body. It is a little too big for her, especially in the chest area, but the effect is still the same. It is a strapless, with a sweet-heart neck line that showcases the boob area very nicely. It's not too tight, and fans out near the ends. Despite, it's lack of any skin-tight material; it showcases the body nicely, with a small slit near the left leg. She turns in the mirrors of the closet, admiring herself for a second.

Massie is tipsy and alone, all because of a boy. It really wasn't the way she rolled.

She collapses onto the gold-covered bed, letting the goose-down blankets take her in.

Just then, the door creaks open, and Massie lifts herself off the bed, standing up at the familiar poke of blond hair that steps through the door.

"Massie?" he asks, fully exposing himself in the warm, fluorescent glow of the Rivera's master suite.

"Derrick," she nods, slurring slightly. Her cheeks flame red, embarrassed at Derrick or Derrington, seeing her in this dress.

"Sorry, I just heard someone up here, and I noticed you were missing. I wanted to check that you weren't upstairs puking or something,"

Massie nods, with a smirk. She sees the nervousness of Derrick and can't remember when he looked so cute. He stands straight, with warm brown eyes that rival her amber ones, showing off his strong goalie arms in a grey Henley from Abercrombie.

"It's Chanel," she purrs, extending her finger, motioning him closer. "You like?" she asks with a giggle.

"On you?" he glances at the floor. "Mass, I like anything on you,"

"That's sweet, but forgive me, I never took Derrick Harrington to be a sweet kind of guy," she says, with a smirk playing at her nude lips, cocking a perfect eyebrow upward.

"Well, I never took Massie Block for such a flirt," he says with a laugh. A snort actually.

_He's cute now, and I'm tipsy. _

She lowers her eyelids, letting them brush delicately over her large amber eyes. "Mr. Harrington, I am not flirting!" she says, with false shock. "The mere thought, that you thought that," she says now, with drunken revel. She laughs, taking a sip more of her beer.

"Mass, get down stairs, and stop drinking," he says, with more concern now. His shaggy blond hair flops over his brown eyes, in that adorable puppy dog way of his.

"I'm fine!" she exclaims. "Really I am,"

She kicks off her shoes, letting the black Ferragamo pumps tumble over the carpet. She trips a little, grabbing onto Derrington's strong arms for balance.

"Really fine," she says seductively. Massie presses her head into his chest, reminded of the times she was once his; seventh grade puppy love, ninth grade second chance, and tenth grade's brief, but passionate fling.

To her, Derrington is the opposite of Cam. He's reliable and sweet, he's funny and cute.

_Adorable. _

Cam is angry, passion fueled, fury. He's sexy as hell, but shaky, and he's not funny, at least alone he's not. But, he's a lover, genuine and through. And he knows where to touch her best.

_Lustful. _

Massie looks into Derrick's puppy eyes, his brown orbs tracing over her body.

"I'm going to go, now," he says, pushing her off, and backing away towards the panel door.

"Why?" she asks, with a pout. Massie is never used to a no.

"Mass," he starts, something shifting in his brown eyes, "You're toying with me," he says. "You know I still love you, and you're playing with me. I'm sorry Massie Block, but I'm not a fucking dog. I'm not one of your friends, you can't order me around," he stops, looks her dead in the eyes. "Not anymore."

Massie, backs up, sobriety cracking its whip in her head. No one ever talks to Massie Block like that. It reminds her of all the times Derrington gave his opinion; the way he never fails to let Massie know she's wrong.

Cam never does that, he lets her think she's right.

"Derrick," she says, stepping closer to him, closing the gap left between them. "I'm not playing games with you," she says slowly.

He grabs her by the arms, feeling her bare skin, and clutching the delicate brown locks that frame her perfect face. Maybe, this was right, he thinks. Maybe, this time it will work out. Maybe he'll get over Massie's self-centeredness, and she'll see past his little kid jokes, and his immaturity.

Massie presses her lips against his, cool and delicate, like a touch of air. Derrington responds hungrily, as if she was the last piece of candy ready to be devoured and savored.

Massie closed her eyes slowly, trying to forget Cam, and absorb Derrington.

Cam has Claire, and she has Derrington. Back when they were younger, this was the way it had always been. Now that she's older, things are much more complicated.

But, feeling her way through Derrington again makes her relive the young days, without the complicated Cam love, and the Claire drama. It is simple now. Cam is kissing _her _best friend, and she is kissing _his _best friend.

In her mind, she thinks this is right, for now at least.

He leads her to the bed, their lips still glued to each other's. He lowers her down, on top of her now, as she wraps her slinky arms around his neck. Their tongues collide up and down.

Yeah this time is going to be right.

Cam Fisher, sneaks a peek through the open door way. After ditching Claire to "go use the bathroom", he walked up the stairs to where Massie had gone. He hoped to talk to her alone, sort out his feelings for her, for Claire.

But, now he sees her underneath Derrick, pressing her lips to his.

_Slut. Slut. Slut. _

What about him? What about today?

He stalks away from the door, not bothering to look back. Something inside him snaps. His eyes widen, his body stiffens, and his fists clench.

Massie Block was not worth dumping Claire for. She was just a common whore, kissing _his _best friend in the next room. And now, every time he looks at her, every time he talks to her, he'll remind her of it.

Sickly, he hopes that this will drive her back to him.

Make her remember that she loves him, _not _Derrick.

**Xxx**

**Hey, I hope this chapter wasn't too confusing. And I hope you get that Massie and Derrington had a series of make ups and break ups before this, so like this is not just some random hookup, they do have history. **

**Anyways hope you enjoyed this chapter, next one should be up soon **

**J'tadore you. ;) **


	4. Torn

**Thanks so much for reading guys. It means a lot to me. So this chapter was inspired by the song Sunburn by Muse. It's in Cam's POV and it touches on a darker side of his personality. I'm not sure how people will handle the new obsessive Cam. **

**Feedback on his personality? **

**J'tadore you guys. **

**ONE WEEK LATER **

Cam Fisher brushes his fingers against a gold charm bracelet. He doesn't want to give it back to her. It's the one thing he has that keeps her with him every night.

But, he knows he needs to, and it will give him a perfect opportunity to talk to her, hear her sharp voice again.

He looks across the campus where she sits with her thin legs crossed underneath a tall oak. The grey clouds threaten to break with rain, but her smile betrays no worry; only that of a happy sixteen year old girl, chatting it up with her beautiful friends.

Cam approaches the group, noticing that Claire is gone.

"If you're looking for Claire, Fisher, she's upstairs in the library finishing up an English report," Massie says, turning to face him. He steps back, surprised by the trill of happiness in her voice.

"I'm not, actually I want to talk to you about something," he says softly, holding up the charm bracelet. Her amber eyes follow it as it dangles from his fingers.

"Be back in a second," she says to her friends. She stands up and follows him to the back of the school, out of sight from her snooping friends.

"Here," he says, dropping the gold bracelet into her palm.

"Thanks," she mutters, stuffing it into her black coat. "Make it quick, I have to meet up with Derrick in fifteen minutes," she snaps.

"Derrick?" he says with a smirk. "Massie, you know you don't love him," he wants to touch her, remind her of him.

"Please Fisher; you don't know anything about me."

"Don't I?" he asks, raising a thin black eye brow at her accusation. He knows that she wants to forget, seem spotless for Derrick, but Cam won't allow that. She can't undo the past, especially when she's _his_.

"Cam I don't have time for this," she says daringly, pushing past him as he grabs her thin arm sternly.

"Come back to me," he says quietly, stroking her cheek as he hopes to get her to feel it in her body.

"And what Cam? Play the Angie to your Brad?" she snaps, shoving his hand from her shoulder. "I'm not the other woman Cam Fisher. Especially not the other woman to a girl like Claire!"

"What's wrong with Claire?" he barks angrily, getting closer and closer to her until she was against the brick building.

"There you go again Cam. You say you love me, say you want me to come back to you, but then you go and defend _her_. I can't do this anymore Fisher. I just can't, you have to make a choice. You know that I'd leave him for you in a heart beat Cam, you know that. But, you have to choose now! Me or her?" she says, standing to her full height, her amber eyes heated with rage.

Cam shakes his head, pleading with his blue and green eyes. "Please," he says quietly, lowering his head.

_You know I can't. _

"Okay," she says calmly. She shakes off any emotion from her face, and pushes him off of her, no longer fearful or nervous, just angry. "I see you've made your choice," she is now a few feet away from him, her eyes still burning with hot aggression. "Don't expect me to come crawling back to you Cam. I'm Massie Block, I don't wait around," she spits at him.

Cam lunges for her, grabbing her by the shoulders and mashing his mouth against hers. He wants to savor her taste forever.

_Strawberry. _

She pushes him off of her. "Get off of me Fisher!" she shrieks in horror, wiping her mouth on the back of her gloved hand.

Cam bows his head in shame, lowering his eyes in embarrassment.

Massie takes one last look, pondering if she should go over there and grab him. She shakes her head and lets a single, silver tear fall down her cheek. There is a distant rumble of thunder up ahead, and rain starts falling gently at first, and then picking up speed.

"Good bye," she says silently. "Good bye Cam Fisher," she sprints off. Her heels clacking against the wet pavement, for once not caring about her hair, or her makeup.

Cam lifts his head to see her darting figure retreat against the rain. He rams his fist into the side of the brick building, letting the pain soar up his arm.

He can't believe she left him. Massie was _his. _Not Derrick's.

He starts walking away from the little alley way, unaware that Claire was watching him from a window above.

Claire shakes her white blond head. Why was Cam alone in the rain? She shakes it off as nothing but a little stress from SATs. She grabs her books from the table in the library, and races down the steps towards the side door of the library wing that leads to a distressed Cam.

"Cam?" she calls delicately, unsure if she is heard against the pounding rain. He lifts his head and turns to see Claire a few feet behind him; she races towards him, looking slightly concerned in the rain.

"Claire, have you been here this whole time?" he asks nervously. She shakes her head 'no'. He nods, taking her into his body.

She buries her head deep into his chest, taking in the familiar scent of sushi and Drakkar Noir. She drops the books onto the ground and wraps her thin arms around his neck, kissing him in the rain.

He takes her in, but a little less forcefully, wanting instead to walk away from her kiss. He can't help but imagine if Derrick and Massie are doing the same thing. He opens his eyes as Claire swims through his mouth.

All he can see is waves of chocolate and tanned skin, instead of pale blond hair and porcelain skin.

_Massie. His Massie. She was his. _

"Cam!" Claire stops, her breath short. "You're bleeding," she whispers, rubbing her tender thin fingers over his knuckles. She lifts his hand to her lips, kissing each of his red and torn knuckles.

"It's nothing," he says quietly, pulling his hand away from her mouth. She stops, letting her face fall flat, and he can feel her hurt. He knows Claire so well. He knows she'll go him and cry, turn to her sour gummies for comfort, and wish it never happened. Then, tomorrow she'd be okay.

He is tired of girls who pretend he's perfect, tired of the girls who blame themselves for his mistakes.

Massie isn't like that. Massie knows when everyone is wrong; it's just herself she has trouble finding faults in.

Cam didn't want to pretend that Claire was the girl for him; he didn't want to leave Massie in Derrick's arms. But, he didn't want to hurt Claire, not after he had done it so many times before. He wants to go back to the days when him and Claire could share gummies, and sip smoothies together with Derrick and Massie. He wants to go back to the days when he and Claire could just talk on the phone for hours, laughing about the smallest things.

But, those days are over. And he is torn between the two girls he has always loved.

It's impossible to choose.

Massie is seductive and complicated. She never cries, and keeps it all to herself. She makes herself perfect, just so she can escape the pressures of being imperfect. Yet, behind her designer labels he sees her torn and bruised heart. A girl ignored by her family, and a girl who cares for her small black pug than her best friends.

Claire is pretty and sweet. She's so damn sensitive and embarrassed it makes him love her even more. She's an open book with a face too easy to read. She never feels the pressures of keeping up her image because her imperfections are so much easier to live with.

Cam tilts her face towards him.

"I love you Cam," she whimpers.

"I know," he sighs, wrapping his arms around his waist and cradling her blond hair. He kisses her hard, feeling the familiar bowl and shape of her mouth. He strokes her lower back, feeling the curve as the rain fizzles around them, creating a gray-blue glow around their intertwined bodies.

Slowly Cam forgets himself, seeing brown where there was blond, blue where there was amber.

They are his girls, and he had to have both of them. He knows that much, and he isn't going to let one of them go without a good fight.

**Xxx**

**Icky? I don't know it's a little weird but I hope you like. ;). **

**He starts off shaky and possessive but I fall in love with him. **

**Hope you do too.**

**READ MY ONESHOT:) oh and of course keep reviewing.  
**


	5. Virgins

**I'm having some trouble. Massington or Cassie? **

**And if I choose Cassie, should there be a Clarington? **

**Feedback needed and wanted. **

**FIVE DAYS LATER**

Massie opens the door, looking at the litter of red roses left on her doorway. She picks up the small bouquet, lifting the vase, empty of water, onto the table.

She steals a rose from the curvy glass, lifting it up to her nose. It smells sweet, just like a rose should. She buries the rose into her cheek, feeling its thorns press sharply. A broad smile crosses over her face.

"Inez," she calls to her tenderly house keeper. "Take these up to my room," she sighs dreamily. Roses on a Sunday morning, there was nothing more romantic.

Inez marches into the welcoming area of the Block estate. "Oh, Miss Massie!" she squeals excitedly, a noise that doesn't suit her old frame. "Look there's a card," she says, ripping a white, folded piece of paper and handing it delicately to Massie. The old woman grabs the vase, treading up the winding staircase into Massie's room.

Massie hesitates to open the note, pressing it against her nose gently, hoping for a hint of Drakkar Noir, even though, she knows that she should be wishing for Axe.

_M, _

_Like them? They're almost as pretty as you. Go to the Valentine's Day dance with me? _

_-D _

She smiles at the loopy, sloppy boy writing of Derrington. With the entire drama involving Cam she almost forgot about the dance. She leaves the note on the wooden table of the welcoming area, walking into the kitchen.

She sneaks a glance at herself in the reflection of her metal stove. Her dark hair is knotted atop her head, and her eyes are worn red with early morning blues. She turns away from the sight, feeling insecure at her less than an 8 rating. It is nearly nine o'clock, and the Pretty Committee is expected in half an hour.

Massie turns away from the tempting refrigerator and runs up the steps to her room, greeted by the striking red against her all white room. She rips the hair tie that holds her dark waves, letting them tumble loosely. They smell of Bumble & Bumble and their shine brightens her room. Already laid out is a simple, yet stunning DKNY sweater dress. It is perfect in its warm tones, and even warmer texture.

Massie tears off the Juicy sweats and tank in exchange for the dress, letting its boxy top hug her cold body. She stomps over to her vanity, where bright and vibrant Hard Candy make up greet her with colorful smiles. She lines her amber eyes in black, careful to not over-do it. She applies a light base to her already even tone, and lets the red beads of a mineral blush wash over her cheeks. In a minute her face glows, pretty shine radiating through out her skinny, tiny frame.

Her iPhone vibrates for the fifth time since eight, and she reads the caller I.D. Claire once more. Massie hits ignore, already dealing with how she was going to even talk to her friend. She was in no condition to talk to her on the phone, at least not without the other members of her group.

Massie tosses the phone on the bed, along with her body, spreading her arms and legs, counting the times she had thought of Cam since Wednesday.

_One million and two. _

She sighs, letting her breath close tight, before emerging tears. She wipes away at them, struggling to fight a tremendous down pour. She stomps her feet, shuts her eyes but they border on her rims now, the blue drops threatening to fall past her cheek.

"Massie Block," she whispers to herself. "Don't do this,"

She stands up from the bed, feeling the purple shag carpet squish between her auburn toes. She marches over towards her computer, pulling up an old picture she cherishes.

In the picture sits her in the middle, Cam and Claire on her left, Alicia and Josh to her right their gorgeous faces nearly touching. Derrington is behind her, his tanned arms around her neck, his blond hair falling into her dark locks. Cam is brushing his hand against her shoulder in an attempt to stop Derrington from tackling Massie, while feeding a giggling Claire gummy worms. The picture was meant to be a nice portrait of the three couples on a trip last May to Jersey Shore. However, Derrington opted for a more unconventional picture, to define the couples more strictly. Yet, he neglected to mention that his idea of coupling was to pull Massie down from the bench, while the innocent person who had offered to take the shot was helpless to do anything but shoot.

_Even then he was pulling me away from him. _

She glances one more time at her bright face, reaching out to Cam, but being pulled down by Derrington. The picture bore a striking resemblance to her current situation.

Had it always been like that?

Had Claire always been oblivious to the mounting lust between her and Cam? Massie knows there were plenty of times to warn Claire. When she, Cam, Derrington and Claire had taken a trip to her Hamptons home for the summer of ninth grade, and she and Cam spent the whole night downstairs "preparing brownies", while Claire and Derrington sat upstairs setting up the DVDs and preparing fun cocktails. She remembers how she had tossed a glob of brownie mix into Cam's hair, and he scooped her up in his arms, planting a soft and sweet kiss on her mouth.

"You had a little bit of chocolate," he had said. His eyes filled with guilt and tenderness. That had been the first time they ever met up with their old friend: _infidelity_.

The second had been on a tenth grade trip upstate to ski. Unable to get a shower in the girl's side of the hall, she snuck past Mrs. Crowley, the school chaperone, and went into the boys shower room. As she was finishing up her shower, Cam barged in to see her hooking her favorite La Perla bra. Unable to resist it, they gave into their lust, kissing and fondling each other in the shower, till someone warned that Mrs. Crowley was checking the showers for her. She hid with Cam in the bathroom, standing on the toilet to avoid the scary teacher.

Massie shivers, thinking of all the times she had taken Cam in.

A knock at the door prevents her from thinking anymore of these dangerous thoughts.

"Miss Block," Inez says, "Your guests are here,"

"Send them in," she mutters, watching Inez's frail form slip into the doorway with four girls following close behind. They trip over themselves to get into her room. Massie stands away from the computer, closing the picture, and facing each of her friends. They assume their usual positions in her room; Alicia at the bed besides Massie. Dylan on the plush chair, picking at the bowls of snacks lined on her small table. Kristen at the window, watching the outside sky with wide blue eyes, and Claire on the rug, spread out, and picking from a bowl filled with Twizzlers and gummy feet.

"Eh Ma Gawd Massie!" Alicia shrieks, her shrill voice piercing Massie's ear. "Did you hear?" she asks. "Olivia Ryan and Kemp Hurley finally lost it to each other," she glances at Massie, then the rest of her friends, registering their shocked faces.

"Gawd Leesh, I don't know why sex shocks you, I mean haven't you and Josh done it like a million times?" Kristen asks, cocking a thin eyebrow up at the Spanish beauty.

"Well, not exactly," Alicia blushes, tossing her black mane across her shoulder. "We're waiting till the dance. He told me he has the perfect mix tape and everything," she gushes.

"Oh wow, that's a shock, how about you Kuh-Lair, you and Fisher ever done the deed?" Dylan asks, a sly smile creeping up her face.

"Well," Claire starts. Massie stiffens, clutching a purple down pillow tight to her chest in a pathetic attempt to hide her embarrassment. "Not really. I mean we've gotten close, but never like actually did it. He said he's waiting for sometime when it's right, we're both virgins," she giggles, gnawing at a red Twizzler.

_A right time? Like the middle of the afternoon in his bedroom? Try right person._

Massie eyes Claire's smiling face in a fit of envy that Cam and her had actually talked about sex before. Where as her time with him had been impulsive, no effort thrown into it.

"How about you Mass?" Dylan asks. "You and Derrington do it yet?"

Massie blushes heavily, but chucks the pillow aside, and arches her eyebrows. "I'm saving myself, well at least till I know things are definite," she says with confidence. "I mean, I'm nawt going to give it up to him within like the first two weeks."

"Yeah, but you guys have practically been together since the seventh grade," Kristen counters.

"Point!" Alicia says, raising her 'point' finger in the air.

_No. _

"Puh-lease," Massie starts. "My virginity is something I should save, savor for the right man who will ravish me. Make me smile when I'm sad, and _won't _tell me he loves me when we're having sex. He'll be sure to set the right atmosphere, tell me he loves me when it's right."

_Like Cam. _

"Gawd Mass," Alicia sighs dreamily, flopping on the bed, her curvy, lean body spread against the white comforters. "That's beautiful,"

"Thanks! I got it from Cosmo!" she says with a confident toss of her hair.

The girls laugh in unison, each tossing pretzels, gummy feet, and pillows at their cocky Alpha.

"But, seriously Mass," Kristen says, after the fun ceases. "You're going to have to lose it to him sometime,"

_Too late. _

Massie smirks, nodding her head in agreement. "I know, but I'm worth it," she says with smile that reads vanity.

"BITCH" Dylan burps.

The girls erupt into laughs, but Massie sneaks a small glance at Claire's glowing face. So, Cam wasn't lying when he told her that it was his first time as well.

Massie shakes her head. Cam is old news, and Derrington is what she needs, not some two-timing, cocky bastard.

"So," Massie interrupts, her voice letting them know that the giggles are over. "We need to head to the mall. I mean the dance is this Friday,"

The girls giggle their agreement.

**Xxx **

**I wanted to do a little fun with the PC since I've been neglecting them. It's mostly filler, but does introduce the dance aspect of it. **

**Anyways read and review **


	6. Liar

**Thanks for the reviews you guys ********. Reviews make me smile. **

**Anyways you guys are very opinionated, but I'm sensing that Massington is for the win here. **

**But, if I gave you what you wanted, what kind of writer would I be? So for the question remains: Cassie? Clarington? Massington? Or Clam? **

**But, still your thoughts are loved. Oh and if you're a fan of Jolivia (Josh and Olivia ********) I have one coming up for you guys that is a personal fave of mine. **

**Anyways without further ado: **

Mondays get the best of Claire. They are filled with the shrieks of excited teenagers and exhausted teachers.

Claire is less than enthusiastic, because on this particular Monday, in exactly twenty minutes she will be going shopping with Kristen and Massie. The fact that Kristen is going as well seems to be the only comfort to Claire, but since Kristen spends most of her time in Abercrombie, while Massie hardly ever shops there, it's not much of a comfort.

Claire sighs, looking up to where the young Miss Watson strolls across the linoleum tiles of the floor, trying to explain the tragedy of _King Lear_. Claire reads the book as the teacher recites the words by memory.

"It is the stars,  
the stars above us, govern our conditions." Miss Watson says, pausing to stare at the children's blank faces. "Come one, that's a beautiful quote!" she exclaims throwing up her hands in excitement.

Claire sighs. She hates the story of _King Lear_. Especially when Cordelia dies, she can't imagine something that tragic actually happening. To Claire, good people just don't die.

"Come on people," she persists, walking over to where Cam sits across the room. "Mr. Fisher, would you care to give your thoughts on the ending, if you actually did your homework today," she says, several snickers arise throughout the room.

"Okay," he starts licking his red lips. "I think that first of all, this King Lear guy is a real jack ass," he says, but Miss Watson simply raises an eyebrow at him but nods for him to continue. "I mean come on, he just disinherits his daughter because she doesn't want to bend over backwards to make herself look dumb. And honestly, I think Cordelia's has no back bone. I mean, if my father ever abandoned me, I wouldn't go back to save him, even if I ended up marrying the king of Belgium," he says with a pause. It is the pot talking, Claire knows it. Lately Cam has been smoking it more and more.

"France," Miss Watson corrects. "King of France. Now let's hear from your other half Mr. Fisher." Miss Watson says, gliding in dark, Pay Less pumps, to where Claire sits at the front of the room. "Miss Lyons, let's hear your take,"

"Well," Claire says blushing, looking over at Dylan who snickers into her palm with her tongue out at Claire. "I think that King Lear suffers a horrible fate. I'm sure that he was sorry for what he did, yet he still gets punished. It would kill me to lose my daughter, after treating her so cruelly. And his own daughters lied to his face, just to get some property. Honestly, I just don't find the whole story realistic. I know life sucks, but it doesn't suck that much," Claire finishes, looking up with crystal blue eyes at her teacher.

"I'm sure you'll find Miss Lyons, that no matter how hard you apologize, it doesn't always turn out right in the end. Maybe you'll get lucky and have your apology accepted, like King Lear, but in the end, it doesn't always turn out peachy," Miss Watson says sternly, looking up at the clock. The bell rings, and various bodies shuffle out of their seats into crowded hallways.

"Great answer Claire," Allie Rose Singer compliments, her tall body storming off, leaving behind a beaming Claire.

Claire grabs her books and walks out into the hallways, trailing behind Cam. "Cam!" she calls out to him. He turns to face her with blood shot eyes that shoot through Claire's heart.

"Hey," he mumbles with a smile, a stoned dazed smile. "Whazzup?"

"Nothing," she starts. "Look I know you have a lot going on, obviously too much to answer my phone calls, but you know the dance is this Friday right?" she asks, raising her white eyebrows up in anger.

"Yeah," he says. "But, I mean those things are lame, I figured you wouldn't want to go," he mumbles. The truth is, he didn't want to see Massie with Derrick, dancing like a happy couple. The dance is all his friends could talk about. Josh, bragging about how he is finally going to "do it" with Alicia. Kemp Hurley, boasting about already doing it with Olivia. Chris Plovert, wondering how he was going to ask Dylan, and conversing with Griff Hastings about how he was asking Kristen. And Derrick wondering which shirt to wear. Cam is sick of it, all this talk about dances makes him want to smoke even more. And since all his fucking friends are too worried about the dance they won't even burn with him.

"Well I want to go Cam," Claire insists sternly, looking into his mismatched eyes for a plead of sympathy.

"Fine, whatever we'll go," he mutters, looking down at the multi-colored swirls that glaze over his eyes.

"Thanks," she says with a smile on her pale face. Her thin arms clasp around his waist as she plants a soft kiss on his cheek, despite the horrible smell of pot smoke.

"Whatevs," he says softly, accepting her kiss, but only hearing a wa-wa sound from her mouth. He watches Claire walk away, her lanky hips swinging in tight jeans. He used to wake up wondering how he managed to score the only sweet girl in Westchester. But, now a days, he finds himself wondering how they haven't even had sex yet.

His first time with Massie was amazing, wonderful and explosive, like chemicals reacting to form a new compound. But, he can only picture with Claire an awkward time. And with all this pot smoke, mostly to alleviate his Massie craves, he found himself hornier than Hugh Heffner.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets, allowing his shoulders to slump and letting his mind wander to a familiar tuft of brown hair.

_Missing you. _

Claire scans through racks of dresses in BCBG with Massie; Kristen is at Abercrombie searching through their newest racks of jeans. Her mother is extremely generous today and gives her four hundred dollars, a result of a promotion at her new job, and selling away her old clothes.

"What do you think?" she asks, raising up a red shift dress to her body that is strapless and tight. She knows it is a little slutty for her taste, but ever since the last week, she began feeling the need to amp her game up with Cam, and maybe this slutty little number is what she needs.

"It's pretty," Massie says distractedly, tossing a powder blue dress onto the mounting pile resting on her thin arm.

Claire stares at her friend taking the red dress off the hanger, and heading for the dressing room. She steps into a large room, slipping off her jeans and tight tunic that Massie had given her. She slips on the dress, examining the way it barely covers her thighs, and amps up her boobs, giving her small little chest the lift it needs, and outlining her little pert behind.

Claire steps out of the room to see Massie staring at her. "That's sexy," she says, as Claire does a little spin in the red number.

_Too much for him. _

"I know," Claire agrees, meeting her friend's eyes for a moment. "You think he'll like it?" she asks self consciously picking at her cuticles.

_He'll love it. Just not on you. _

"Yeah," Massie says quietly, turning her back on Claire, as Claire slips back into the room, out of the dress and into her clothes again.

"Mass," Claire says, following her friend to the cash register where a bleach blond rudely takes Massie's purchases, which include a grey chiffon dress, and a tight black, satin, slip dress with a halter that plunges deep down. "What's going on with you?" she asks, laying her own red dress next to Massie's. "I mean first Cam starts acting weird, now you?"

"Cam's acting weird?" Massie inquires, tossing her platinum discover card with the carelessness of a rich Westchester brat.

"$238 miss," the second cashier sings as she waits for Claire to line out the bills. Claire carefully hands her five fifty dollar bills, and the cashier hands her back the change, and her bag. "Have a nice day," she coos.

"Yeah he is," Claire says simply, scooping up her bag, and following Massie out the door into Abercrombie, where Kristen is still searching through v-necks, and cardigans. "I mean, he didn't even want to go to the dance,"

"Why?" Massie asks a little too quickly.

"Because he didn't think I'd be into it," Claire says, marching over to a display table where pastel-colored sweaters are lined. "I mean since when do I not want to go to a dance. I may not be miss party or whatever but a school dance is not something I pass up,"

"Yeah," Massie agrees, shifting through a rack of ripped jeans besides Kristen.

Kristen holds up a heavily distressed pair. "Yah like?" she asks.

"Too beach-bum," Massie judges with a shake of her head. Kristen puts them back, and begins her search again.

"I mean it's like he doesn't want to be with me anymore," Claire says slowly. "I think he's cheating on me, or I mean did," she says slowly. "He never returns my phone calls, he sounds distracted when he talks and he can't even kiss me back like he used to."

Massie stiffens, clutching on to a pair of flair jeans, twisting them in her manicured hands.

_Guilty. _

There it is again, that single word pops up into Claire's head whenever she sees Massie.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Massie says, releasing the jeans from her death grip. Her face reveals nothing; her eyes are solemn once more and she is an Alpha again. "I mean he does smoke a lot of pot, maybe he's under some stress, lacrosse is starting soon," Massie adds.

"True," Kristen agrees, walking away with a pair of jeans towards a crowded dressing room line.

Claire looks up at Massie, light blue contradicting hot amber.

_Lies. _

Massie stares away from Claire and steps away from the racks. "There's nothing here for me," she says.

"Stay away from him Massie," Claire says sharply. "Stay away from Cam,"

"Excuse me?" she asks threateningly.

"You can't fucking have him Massie," she rages, several onlookers turn in their direction. "He's mine, he's mine and you know it,"

"Gawd Kuh-Lair insecure much?"

"Massie I swear to God if you take him from me," she threatens.

"What? What Claire, do tell me cause I would really like to know!"

"I'll tell Derrington,"

Massie is quiet now, her face is red and her eyes are weary.

"There's nothing to tell Claire," she says firmly. Her voice is soft now, calming almost. Claire releases the tension from her shoulders, relaxing under a soothing tone.

_.Wrong. _

"Gawd Massie," she says, "I can't do this anymore,"

Massie runs to Claire, her arms wrapping around her body as she leads Claire out of the store. Claire sobs into her friend's chest. "Shhh, don't cry," she soothes.

Claire is shocked by Massie's reaction, but does nothing to stop her friend, instead leans into Massie for support as she feels her friend stoking her blond head.

"I love him so much," Claire says between choked sobs.

"I know," Massie says, still petting her friend's hair. No one would ever see this side of Massie again, but out of guilt and loyalty she'll rush to her friends side, but tomorrow it never happened.

Claire looks Massie in her eyes, not trusting her one bit, yet putting all her insecurities into Massie's hands. "This never happened," she says firmly.

"Gawd do you even have to say that," Massie laughs quietly. Claire leans back into Massie. "But, you can't keep playing Stepford wife forever Claire,"

_Then how long can you keep playing other woman? She thinks bitterly. _


	7. Break

**Thanks for the Reviews********. Review my one-shot please ha-ha, and my other story coming up. **

**Anyways just a little insight to this chapter, I worked particularly hard on this, hoping to develop Massie's character further, providing for an elusive ending that could bring a fall or redemption. **

Massie Block picks at her salad, smothering hefty slices of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers and grilled chicken, in ranch dressing. Massie Block looks across the white-clothed table to where Derrick sits, cutting at a piece of steak with some difficulty. Massie giggles at his failed attempts to eat his steak.

"Yeah well if it's so funny why don't you try it?" he says with a devilish grin as he slides his plate over to Massie. Massie grabs his fork and knife, and with a cocky hair toss, properly aligns the two utensils, and easily cuts a neat triangle of red-brown meat.

"Now was that so hard?" she asks, greedily forking the piece she cut, and biting it with authority.

"Shut up," he says playfully as he grabs his plate and utensils from her side and follows her exact motions, leading up to a perfect little square of meat. "See I can do it too," he brags, displaying his portion like a proud little child.

"Not without my help," Massie giggles, taking a modest bite of her salad.

Derrington looks cute today. His hair smells like almonds and honey, his eyes are warmer than usual, and his skin looks radiant against a light blue button down. Of course, the setting of their romantic outing is totally corny, in true Derrington fashion. The tables are small circles, lined up and tightly packed against each other. There are candles on each table, but only one is lit, and a horrible violinist attempts to serenade the diners with his butchered rendition of Ave Maria.

"Dude I will pay you to stop," Derrington mumbles beneath his breath. The violin hits a sour note, and all the heads turn to him with aggravation. "Sorry, my mom said it was nice. This is the last time I'm taking her suggestions. Want to jet?" he asks, already slipping on his black North Face.

"I thought you'd never ask," she mutters, gliding into a suede trench coat, and matching caramel scarf and gloves.

Derrington slams two fifties on the table, and grabs Massie's hand as they storm away from a waiter calling out to them. The good thing about the restaurant is, that in it's attempt to be romantic and classy it's situated near the ocean, and a boardwalk lit up in lights, where street vendors attempt to sell ice cream and glow sticks. Derrington leads Massie to a small little cart, where an array of brightly colored creams is on display.

"Two chocolates with lots of sprinkles," he says to the man, who nods with a smile of a warm-hearted gentleman well into his sixties. He hands them two cones overflowing with brown in a mix of rainbow colors.

"Derrick!" she shrieks, as he hands her the cone. "You know I don't eat sugar," she insists.

"Massie," he says, taking her tiny face into his free hand, stroking her rosy cheeks with his thumb. "You could have all the sugar you wanted, and I'd still think you were beautiful," he says.

Massie melts like butter on a warm day into his compliment. "Thank you," she says sweetly, wrapping her own hand around his, where it was settling on her cheek.

Derrington places his hand on the small of her back and leads her away from the cart and the two walk towards the end of the boardwalk, licking their cones and holding hands in the chilly February night. Massie leans her head on his shoulder, pressing the cone to her pink tongue and taking in its sugary taste. It feels right being here with Derrick, for once she is able to forget about Claire's accusation at the mall the other day, and Cam's incessant calls to her. Derrington helps her just remember why she used to love him, why she might be falling for him all over again.

For once she isn't wondering what Claire and Cam are doing. For once Massie is appreciating Derrington, the good and the bad.

They reach the end of the boardwalk, over looking the water and moon that reflects into the blue waves.

"I think I'm sick of my ice cream," Massie says, chucking the half-finished cone into the water.

"Yeah me too," Derrington says, doing the same to his own ice cream. "I'm ready for something sweeter," he coos into her ear.

"That's about the corniest line I've ever heard," Massie says with a roll of his eyes.

"Well what can I say," Derrington shrugs. He grabs her head taking in her sweet mouth as he swims through it with his tongue. He doesn't slow down, he is rapid and aggressive, but still he is very good.

_He's not as soft as him. _

Massie doesn't match his aggression, she can't. Instead she moves her tongue against his, hoping it doesn't feel like she rejects him. Derrington stops at the sound of something vibrating in his pocket.

"Sorry," he apologizes as he picks it up.

"Yo what's up?" he asks in a melancholy voice. "Yeah,"

Massie twirls a lock of dark brown, her eyes looking over Derrington as he rapidly spits into his phone. He is adorable, not sexy like Cam, but sweet and almost vulnerable.

"Yeah, but seriously did she give a reason?" Derrington looks puzzled as his eyebrows crease in confusion. "Cheating? Dude you haven't even gotten any ass since you've been with her,"

Massie rolls her eyes at Derrington and he makes a little kissy face to her.

"Alright man, well I don't know what to say. I mean first she's all weird at the party at Leesh's like two weeks ago right? Now she's like accusing you of cheating? Well I don't know man, look I'll talk to you later alright?" he looks back at Massie with a smile as he wraps a muscular arm around her thin waist. "Alright, bye," he closes the phone and puts it back into his pocket. "Where were we?" he asks, kissing the sliver of her neck that remains uncovered by the scarf.

"Who was on the phone?" she asks curiously as she giggles from his wet, sloppy smooches.

"Oh just Cam," he replies, ceasing his tender kisses. "Claire and him got in a fight and broke up,"

Massie pushes Derrington off of her, her plump little mouth agape. "What?" she asks, staring coldly at Derrington, begging that he admit it was a lie.

"Yeah, she accused him of cheating on her, and he denied it. She said she knew he was lying and she just broke up with him," Derrington says, stuffing his hands into his pockets awkwardly.

"Who did she say she thought it was?" Massie asks nervously. Her amber eyes begin to tear, unable to drive away her emotion.

_My fault. His fault. Our fault. _

"She didn't say, she just said she wanted to know the truth," he says looking her directly into her liquid amber eyes. "You okay?" he asks.

"No, I think I'm a little sick from that food," she murmurs.

"I mean come on Mass, I know the place was bad, but I don't think it was that bad," he says with a stifled giggle. Suddenly the night feels wrong. She feels weird a foot away from Derrington, when Claire is in her room probably crying her eyes out from frustration.

"No, I really feel sick, can I go home?" she asks, her eyes watering over.  
"Oh shit," he says with realization. "You really are sick. Alright, I'll take you home, come on," he says, placing an arm over her shoulder and guiding her down the long boardwalk to his black Mercedes. The stars in the dark sky twinkle at her, somehow mirroring the pain she feels.

_My fault. _

_My fault. _

_My fault. _

Massie looks up at Derrington with pleading eyes, begging him to hate her for some reason. Make it easier for her.

_Hate me, like I hate this. _

She wants to scream at him, tell him that she's the reason Claire and Cam are over, but she can't. She understands that it would crush Derrington, and to some extent it would pain her too. Massie clutches Derrington's arm for support. She wants him to save her, take her away from Cam and Claire and all this guilt. But, the thought of a life without Cam murders her. She can feel her insides ripping from the insatiable guilt.

No matter how hard she tries, she knows that nothing she says can make her feel less guilty. And she knows now that guilt is something that kills worse for someone who has never experienced it before. It feels like a blow to the stomach, rough and cruel.

_Just like her._

.


	8. Caught

**Sorry for updating late. I've been extremely busy. **

**Anyways this is a personal fave, one of my favorite chapters truly. And new story coming up ********. Please comment it and my one-shot. **

Massie Block flips her dark hair, walks up his steps, and backs away. Her eyes are crystal with tears preparing to fall, and Cam can't help but wrap his arms around her. He didn't need to know why she came to his house, all that matters is that she is here; with him.

"Stop," Massie sniffles, her eyes watering, but her face hard like stone. "This is why we can't do this!" she insists, pressing into his floor with a red Manolo heel. "It's my entire fault you two are over,"

"No, don't blame yourself," Cam insists, he backs away from her, the scent of her Chanel perfume over whelming. He grips his shoulders for comfort, finding none in her stern face and crossed arms. Her pretty, sharp face is too cold for him to even dream of reaching for her. He wants to hold the Massie who promised she would love him two weeks ago. But, she's gone, and in her place is the Massie everyone knows, the one who is just trying to find a way to control everything.

"I'm sorry," she mutters, barely audible against the soft hum of a song.

_You were meant for me. _

An old favorite of his, even though he never admits it, Jewel was always his favorite artist, aside from the Strokes.

"Cam," she says cold and chilling. "I shouldn't be here, but I needed to tell you," she pauses, stepping closer to him and closing the gap that had widened previously. "I wanted to tell you that tomorrow, I'm going to the dance with Derrick," she says. "I'm going to go with him, and what happened two weeks ago, it'll never happen again. You and I don't belong together." she says, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder.

"Mass, I love you,"

"Cam, I know. You know I love you too, but Claire needs you, not us. She needs to know that you still love her, and that you'll always be there. Derrick needs me to care for him. We may not like it, but we chose it. We took the risk of falling in love with each other when we had-"she stops, unable to bring herself to speak those very words.

"Sex," he finishes for her.

"Yeah, exactly," she blushes.

"Mass, I don't want to let you go, besides Claire broke up with me!" he argues.

"She did it because of me, Cam she knows, well at least she knows something happened, she doesn't know to what extent.

Cam gulps, backing further away from Massie and clenching his large hands into fists.

"It's not fair," he says angrily.

Massie retreats from him, opening the door and stepping into the hallway of the empty house. She can't remember anything except their two bodies intertwining in his room, wriggling beneath sheets and combining into one.

Cam will always be the boy she loves, but Derrington is the one she has to be with.

Cam stands in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in confusion. "Massie," he whispers as if saying it for the last time.

She turns on her heel for him, running into his arms and burying her face into his chest with determination and love. It is now that Cam understands this is where Claire is supposed to be, Claire is the girl who should be in his arms, crying from joy and sadness. Slowly he guides Massie to his room, leading her into a bed she is all too familiar with.

He understands the sweet release this will bring, and she knows that she needs to come to terms with her decision. The two love-struck teens hope to bury their regrets in the curves of each others bodies, and ultimately purging themselves of their need for one last time hold them off till the greater powers decide that their love is okay.

With gentle fingers, he removes the large red coat from her thin frame, peeling off her shirt, and jeans. With a smile he unhooks the bra, and she slips off the thin little boy shorts that barely cover her rear. Now he savors her in full, allowing himself to be stripped of his own clothing by her.

"Cam," she mutters as she glides onto the bed and beneath the covers. "I will always love you,"

He nods, somehow unable to mutter the response she needs. He slips over her, and with familiar skill, he eases into her, letting her feel the pleasure and exhilaration of recognition.

Massie Block is like chocolate cake, sweet and pleasing, but too much and you'd wind up resenting her.

Cam kisses her tenderly as her soft moans fill his ears. It is just like in his dreams; she is caressing his black hair and staring into his eyes with fear and lust. She kisses him hard on the lips, and he invites her warm tongue to meet his.

She breaks and pushes against him, sweet and beautiful.

Somehow, in the mix of bodies they both realize that this is the last time they will do this. They both understand that they should not be here, and this is wrong. Sometime during this sweet exchange their eyes meet, and their bodies cool, and they realize with this last time they have satisfied their lust for each other. They come to terms with their unresolved lust and feel each other one last time, taking in every single sensation the other has to offer for their memories, to keep them going when they are living the charade of love with their significant others.

"I'm going to miss you Cam," she says quietly as her fingers trace the lines of his muscular jaw. Her face is dotted with light beads of sweat and he wants to keep her forever.

"Me too," he agrees, he kisses her lightly on the mouth, their bodies still shaking from the aftermath of their love.

"This is really it?" she asks. Worry crosses her beautiful face as she pulls the covers up to her chin.

"Yeah," he responds.

The two lovers do not hear the sound of the unlocked door creak open door. They do not notice a white blond head poke through the doorframe, face red and tears streaking to the floor, till she stands full in their room. Her pretty little face demented with anger and sorrow.

"The front door was open," she says by way of excuse. "I knew you were here," she explains. Her eyes mix with the color of her salty tears. She takes in their bodies wrapped around each other, and their dark heads bent in unison. She knows it is not their first time by the way they lovingly hold each other in all the right places. She also sees that she was just stupid to never realize it.

The ski trip, the Hamptons, all of it.

_Betrayal. _

"Claire," they say in unison, not moving for fear. Their eyes are watery as if they should feel upset. She shakes her head and storms outside the door, down the steps, leaving the heart-felt note she had intended to give to him.

Claire can hear the scrambling of a boy rushing to find his clothes, and a girl lightly sobbing, but they are overshadowed by her own giant gasps for air.

_Liars. Knew it, always did. _

_Couldn't Believe it. _

She had intended to forgive Cam, prepared to disregard her accusations as nerves and paranoia. They were her best friend and her boy friend; it was just the cliché her little insecure mind needed. Only, it didn't look so cliché anymore, it just felt rough and bare. The naked truth never looked so naked.

**xxx **

**I know, a little shorter than my usual ones, but I didn't want to hold you guys out for any longer, I promise the next one will be better written. REVIEW : )))))  
**


	9. Revenge

**Sorry I didn't update till now. I was honestly so busy. Anyways, review and stuff. Hope you like it. **

**Again sorry for updating so late.**

**Hope you like the Clairington ********. **

Claire can't see through tears. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and her vision blurred. Limp, white-blond hair frames a saddened face, broken and empty.

"Fuck!" she says, pulling over the car on a nearby street, and laying her head on the dashboard.

"FUCK!" she hollers.

She pulls at her hair, bangs her tiny fists against the window, but nothing can erase the image of their two bodies buried underneath his sheets. Claire Lyons can only sit in her red Ford and cry empty tears.

Cameron Fisher, the love of her life, had just had sex with Massie Block, her supposed best friend. If it wasn't so tragic, she would laugh. All this time she had believed that he loved her and only her, but of course he was dividing his affections between her and the beautiful queen bee of their school. Claire wipes at her eyes, blinking beneath the grey color of the sky.

_How many times? _

Claire puts the car in reverse, and drives on. Unsure of where she is going, she does not take the turn to the Block estate. Instead, she drives on, turning on Derrick Harrington's block. She pulls the gear, pressing the pedal and speeds her way to the sleek, ultra-modern home that is the Harrington estate. She picks up her silver Razr, a Massie hand-me-down, and punches in Derrington's number.

"Open the door, I'm coming in," she says angrily into the phone before he can even answer.

"Okay?" he says. He walks to his door, opens the wooden plank that protects his home, and opens it, to see Claire Lyons and her familiar Ford parked outside his home.

She stalks out of the car, her blond hair flying behind her as she crosses the road and enters Derrington's house without so much as a hello.

Derrick follows Claire into his house, as her little figure marches up the steps to his bedroom. She opens the door, like she had so many times before and sits on his messy bed. The room reeks of too-much Axe, but it is a welcome change from the usual stink of left-over pizza, and gym socks.

"So, what's up Lion?" he asks, leaning against a navy blue wall that is decorated with David Beckham posters.

"They did it!" she screams. Her eyes water once more and silver tears fall in unruly lines down her face.

"What? Sh, you know my mom doesn't like it when people are loud," he says, attempting to quiet down her heavy sobs.

"They had sex, Massie and Cam," Claire says with sharp gasps in between her words.

Derrick catches a hard breath of air in his throat. "No," he says slowly. He shakes his head in disbelief. He wants to accuse Claire of lying, he wants to believe that this is her idea of a sick prank, but her heavy sobs, and obvious sadness stop him. "How do you know?" he questions her. His tan hands are balled into tight fists that are plastered against his side.

"I caught them. I was going over to Cam's to apologize and say I was sorry. The door was unlocked and I knew he was home, so I walked in. His parents weren't home, and then I heard laughs from his room. I just guessed it was him and Harris goofing around. So, I opened the door, and there they were," she says. This comes out rather twisted, the chokes making it hard to understand her, but Derrick gets the general idea.

"What, how? She seemed so good on our date. It's the day before the dance," he mutters. Derrick clenches his fist tighter, feeling his nails dig into his skin. "Why?" he pleads. He doesn't want to believe Claire, he wants to tell her to leave, but he can see she isn't lying. Her little face is red and swollen from the tears that decorate he face.

"Derrick, I'm sorry," she apologizes. "I didn't mean to hurt you; I just wanted to tell you. I thought that we should troop it, since you know," she says. Heavy sobs get stuck in her throat and she gags for air, yet Derrick has stopped listening to her desperate little cries.

_Fury, _

Derrick can not see anything but pure red. Anger seethes from his skin, glowing red and outlining him. Claire is terrified of him; she backs away from him farther, feeling trapped in his room and left to deal with his rage alone.

"I'll kill her myself. I'd kill them both," he mutters. He paces the room, opening his closet and ripping clothes from the hangers, tearing them from hooks, looking for it.

"Derrick," Claire whispers. Her eyes are swollen, and her lips are chapped, yet there was something so beautiful about her, that Derrick was frozen by her haunting gaze. Cam really did have it good. Claire was a stunner. She wasn't a Massie, but not many girls could compare, and besides Claire's beauty was ethereal, while Massie had a sex appeal. He could imagine Claire in her skimpy little bra and underwear, thin body, flat chest, small butt. Massie would never let him see her naked.

Yet, she clearly had no trouble showing Cam every part of her body.

"God Claire," Derrick sighs, turning from the closet to her shivering body. He wraps her in his arm and presses a cheek in her white blond hair. He had never noticed just how well he and Claire fit together.

"Derrick," Claire breathes. The tears are now muted little gasps and she sinks into his chest, the overwhelming smell of Axe surrounding and empowering her.

_Just do it, give Massie a little taste. _

Claire arches her neck a little back, stands on her toes, and presses her thin lips against Derrick's. He tastes like licorice, black licorice. He doesn't reach for a make out like Cam always does; instead he just moves his lips against her for a moment, and Claire likes the way it feels.

_Wrong, _

Derrick stops, and pushes Claire off of him. It isn't right, and he knows it. He knows that this is some twisted way to find revenge and comfort in him. Derrick is tired of being used. He stares at her with pity and shock, before walking back to the closet and digging in it once more. Suddenly, he draws out a silvery bat.

"I'll give Cam exactly what he deserves," Derrick says softly, gripping the handle of his bat in tight fists. His eyes are narrow slits, and he ignores Claire and stomps out his room, grabbing his car keys and doesn't stop to tell his mother where he's going.

"Derrick!" Claire yells after him. Her voice sounds weird and distorted. He can't hear her pleas for him to stop, all he can hear is Massie shrieking now, yelling for him to stop beating Cam. Massie. His Massie would be begging him.

He would show her not to fuck with him, she always did. She had promised this time they'd last. And Derrick was determined to make sure of it, and showing Cam who was boss was the only way he could think of.

_Best Friends? His fucking ass. Best friends who sleep with their best friend's girl friend. What a fucked up friendship. _


	10. How it ends

Derrick Harrington is furious. The bat is curved in his fingers, weighing him down as each step he takes brings him a little closer to Cam. 

As he approaches the Fisher house hold, he notices it's not as nice as the other homes in Westchester. It's quaint, with a small driveway and two neat cars lined up besides each other. Yet, it lacks curb appeal and it's smack in the middle between two giant homes, with a much nicer front yard than the weed-littered yard of the Fisher's. Derrick never understood the appeal to it. It had three floors, each not much bigger than the other, with three bedrooms and a less-than-impressive master suite, with a view to the outside. 

Derrick doesn't bother using a door, noticing with disgust that it has been left open. He tightens his grip on the bat, following the soft sobs of a girl coming from Cam's room. 

Before he opens the door, he pauses. He can barely make out her words, but she seems to be mourning, pouring her heart out. 

"Oh God Cam," Massie says in between sobs. "How could I have been so stupid?" she asks him with a note of sorrow behind the gasps for air. Derrick opens the door, a cold look towards Massie, curled in Cam's arms. 

The two separate immediately, noticing too late as the bat comes crashing down for Cam's head. 

Cam had always been quick, a fast offender for the soccer team, so dodging the metal bat was easier for him. However, he couldn't help but noticing that Derrick's hit was too hard for just a little rough-housing, the way the bat beat against his bed meant that Derrick was serious. 

"Derrick what the fuck?" Cam screams, backing away from the enraged blond in front of him. Yet, if Derrick heard him, that didn't stop him. He continues to swing the bat, each time narrowly missing Cam. 

"You stole her!" Derrick bellows, continuing to swing the bat. "You took her from me! You knew how much I loved her!" he screams. The bat comes down heavy, finally making contact with Cam's shin. Cam kneels to the ground in pain, howling for Derrick to stop. 

Massie jumps to her feet, grabbing at Derrick's shoulder. "Derrick are you insane?" she screams, the tears pouring as she pulled on his shoulder. "You're going to kill him if you continue," she says, a little more quietly. 

Derrick turns to face her, lowering the bat momentarily. His eyes are slates of blue, with no emotion or sympathy. 

_Maybe it's what he wants. _

Derrick only looks at Massie, dropping the bat on the ground, a few feet away from Cam who is nursing his injured shin. He grabs her arms sternly and throws her across the bed. 

"I always gave you what you wanted. I told you I loved you!" he rages, his tan face blotchy and red. Massie cowers on the bed, crawling across the covers in a pathetic attempt to escape him. She had always known Derrick was a ticking time bomb, no one was that nice forever, but he had never been this way around her. 

Derrick grabbed her ankle, dragging her off the bed, letting her head roll with a thud onto the carpeted floor. 

"Derrick!" she shrieks in protest, attempting to kick him off. Finally, Derrick releases her ankle, letting her thin legs plop to he floor. He drops to his knees. "Why don't you love me?" he asks, simply. There are no pretty words to cover the raw question, and it is left there to hang above Massie's head. 

"Derrick," she starts, approaching him with tender hands, despite her throbbing head. "I do love you," she says, wrapping her skinny arms around his thick body, pressing her warm cheek to his. 

Even as Cam lies there in pain, her words sting him. He knows now that he's going to let her go. Cam realizes that loving Massie is no good for you. She's impossible to love. Her love is fleeting, here one minute, gone the next, just like him. The two of them together would never have worked out. She needs someone sturdy, care-free, but diligent and caring; someone like Derrick; someone like Claire

"You have a funny way of showing it," Derrick mutters, his eyes red with tears that threaten to spill. 

"Derrick please, I made a mistake," as Massie says this, she turns to Cam with guilty eyes. They almost look warm buried beneath the tears. It is here that Massie realizes that she and Cam could never be together. They were too similar, too alike in their love, that their realtionship would shatter to pieces. Cam was always going to go after the pretty girl, with a cute smile and a warm heart. He would leave Massie alone to deal with her broken heart alone, just like he had done with Claire. Massie needs Derrick. He 's someone to ground her, make her stay with him, even through the tears. Cam would run from her at the first sign of distress. "I'm sorry," she whispers into his messy blond hair. "I'm so sorry," 

Derrick, envelopes her body, taking her into him with hesitation. It is at this moment that Cam limps out the door, leaving the broken lovers to hopefully reconcile in his room. 

Cam is careful to grab his cell phone with him, dragging his limp shin down the steps and out the front. Seeing Massie in Derrick's arm made him realize that there was someone he needed to see. 

He dials the familiar number with thick fingers as he shuts the door behind him. Of course, he'd have a lot of explaining to do to his parents, but that can wait. 

"Hello?" the voice answers shaking with remaining tears. 

"Claire, we need to talk," 

And with that, Cam closes the door on Massie and shuts his eyes, explaining to Claire what he should've three weeks ago. 

**THE END**

**Well, I don't know if it was what you were expecting, but I decided that anything after this would just kill the story. The ending is left for you to interpret, but hopefully you enjoyed it. Check out my other stories please! **


End file.
